


The Woes of a Wallflower

by totespoppunk



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, High School AU, Idiots in Love, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29073954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totespoppunk/pseuds/totespoppunk
Summary: Dear Reader,It is that time of year again where pink and red hearts line our hallways, with the smell of candies and flowers permeating the air we breathe. And, yes, it can be an extremely exciting time for those like Cressida Cowper or any of the beautiful Bridgerton siblings, where adoring fans are fawning over their every move.For the rest of us, however, we are left hoping and praying we get at least one Valentine that isn’t given out of necessity. And who will receive a rose with a note to attend the St. Valentine’s Ball this Friday Eve? We’ve already seen one extended to one Kate Sheffield from none other than Anthony Bridgerton, and it’s not even noon! And it seems that one Colin Bridgerton has received three offers already, but they’ve since been declined. Will he go solo on the most romantic day of the year? Don’t worry, Valentines of mine, This Loyal Author has her eyes and ears open.Lady Whistledown’s Column, Grosvenor Glory.-A High School AU where the Valentine's Ball is the most exciting event of the term, but getting there is a feat in itself - and Penelope is left wondering if her crush or secret admirer will ask her in time.
Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington
Comments: 49
Kudos: 210





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thankful for supportive Tumblr followers and the fabulous Julia Quinn and the Bridgerton Netflix series for giving me comfort in these troubling times. These characters are not mine, but I love them dearly.

**Monday, February 8, 2021**

-

_Dear Reader,_

_It is that time of year again where pink and red hearts line our hallways, with the smell of candies and flowers permeating the air we breathe. And, yes, it can be an extremely exciting time for those like Cressida Cowper or any of the beautiful Bridgerton siblings, where adoring fans are fawning over their every move._

_For the rest of us, however, we are left hoping and praying we get at least one Valentine that isn’t given out of necessity. And who will receive a rose with a note to attend the St. Valentine’s Ball this Friday Eve? We’ve already seen one extended to one Kate Sheffield from none other than Anthony Bridgerton, and it’s not even noon! And it seems that one Colin Bridgerton has received three offers already, but they’ve since been declined. Will he go solo on the most romantic day of the year? Don’t worry, Valentines of mine, This Loyal Author has her eyes and ears open._

_Lady Whistledown’s Column, Grosvenor Glory._

-

“How is it that she always gets it right, every time?” Eloise Bridgerton marvels, slamming her back against the metal blue lockers of the sophomore hallway.

Her companion, Penelope Featherington, winces in response to the loud greeting. The ginger girl gives a haphazard glance down the halls, hoping they hadn’t gained the attention from any unwanted gazes of the “more esteemed” students of Grosvenor Prep. After being satisfied that there was no attention on the duo, she turns back to her friend and merely shrugs her shoulders before dipping back into her locker for her Maths textbook.

Noting her anxieties, the brunette Bridgerton offers her a stick of gum in apology. Taking it gratefully, Pen shuts her locker and they make their trek down the halls to their homeroom. “I just don’t understand; it’s like she has eyes everywhere.”

“I’d hope she wouldn’t,” Penelope chuckles, plopping down into her seat, “I’d rather die than see what occurs in any of those sweaty locker rooms.”

“Or you’d just rather no one see your flabby form in those sweaty locker rooms,” chortles Cressida Cowper from a few seats over, whipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Her cheerleading friends all stifle their snickers, and Pen tries to avoid flushing.

Eloise clenches her teeth and looks ready to battle before the redhead touches her arm and whispers, “Ignore her; I’ve heard that one too many times to count.”

“Well no one wants to hear her moans for Friedrich in those locker rooms, but we still have to put up with it,” Eloise bites back, though it’s more contained. The redhead can’t help but snort. If only Lady Whistledown could expose something like that.

“So,” El continues, her eyes straying from the head cheerleader, “Have you seen anyone receive roses yet?”

To someone who didn’t know Eloise well, they may assume that this is very out of character for her to wonder about, but the brunette always loves to be ahead of the gossip before Lady Whistledown’s column is released at lunch.

“I saw Anthony drop on one knee outside the front office,” Penelope conspires, her voice descending to a whisper, “He asked Kate Sheffield.”

“As if anyone is surprised; that boy would swoon for her if it meant having her eyes on him for more than three seconds.” Eloise rolls her eyes, shaking the soft chocolate tendrils from her face. All of the Bridgertons have the same beautiful traits, and Pen can’t help but tug on a ginger curl in contempt.

“Priscilla also received one,” Pen continues as if her best friend hadn’t spoken, “but other than that, I haven’t seen anything else.”

At this, Eloise’s eyes widen, looking positively gleeful. “Well, Colin brought me to school today, and I watched him receive not one, not two, but three roses from three different girls, and he rejected. Every. Single. One.”

“That’s confident,” Pen responds, trying to look uninterested. Instead, she rolls her ballpoint pen impressively through her fingers like a crochet needle. Their teacher begins loudly clacking at the computer at the front of the classroom, signalling that class should start at any minute.

“I know right,” The dark-haired girl chuckles, “If anyone asks me, I’m going to tell them I’d rather be jumping off the maths building.”

Pen actually snorts that time, and does her best to ignore the subtle “Pig.” that comes from one of Cressida’s cronies. She really should be used to it at this point; everyone around her has made enough comments about her weight or her fashion tastes (since her mother has been helicoptering her clothing choices, she has been forced to dress in the most outrageous colors; at this point, she’d rather be dressed in a trash bag.)

But the barbs still sting every time.

When the teacher finally calls the class to order, Penelope scribbles the names and flowers down in her journal. She also spares glances to all of her classmates and jots down any that she hasn’t already seen before tucking it safely away in her bag. If she can just finish her Biology exam in half the time, she’ll be able to make quick edits to her column before the paper prints at noon.

-

“So,” Kate Sheffield’s smile is a mile long as she holds the pink rose to her nose for a hearty sniff, “Have you received any roses yet?”

The latest copy of the _Grosvenor Glory_ is clutched in her fingers, and her eyes positively gleam at the sight of her name next to Anthony’s. He’d always been one for a grand gesture, and she was overcome by the perfection of his proposal.

She’s half-sitting on the Bridgerton’ lap in question, as her eyes scan the horde of friends and siblings crammed around their little table in the courtyard.

Kate skims over the sea of dark-haired Bridgertons, before landing specifically on the short redhead to her right. “What about you, Penelope?”

The girl in question looks up from the little journal she’d been scribbling in, completely ignoring her lunch tray. Her eyes scan quickly over the table, noting the eyes that have landed on her, before answering. “Oh, I-”

“Penelope and I are going stag,” Eloise says rather boldly, plunking her tray down next to her best friend. “As devoted members of the Valentine’s Ball committee, we must focus on ‘creating a love experience for others.’” She fake gags around her air quotes, and her siblings cannot help but chuckle in response.

“Really, El? You could have just said you didn’t want to be shacked up with that Nigel Berbrooke that asked you out over tea last Sunday,” Benedict chortles from down the table. From down the table, Colin and Anthony are both trying to bite back smiles, but it’s the former who positively chokes on a snort.

In response, Eloise launches a french fry at Ben, and it knocks him squarely in the cheek. A grease splotch dribbles down his fair skin onto the sketchbook underneath him, splattering over a very subtle sketch of a hand holding a rose. He was in charge of making the flyers for the St. Valentine’s Ball, as an assignment for his advanced arts class.

“Oh, you-” he launches a carrot stick back in retaliation.

“Children, children,” Anthony pipes up, “If mother gets one more-”

“-citation, she’ll have our heads.” The entire Bridgerton clan choruses back, just as Daphne plops down next to Penelope, holding her own roses. She has accumulated two red, three pink and a single white rose that she keeps reaching out to sniff, a little smile gracing her lips.

Relieved to have the attention removed from her, Penelope turns to their beautiful newcomer with a smile, “Look at you, Miss Popular! Have you decided on your final suitor yet?”

The eldest female Bridgerton has the gall to flush pinker than her flowers in hand, “I just keep turning around and there are new offers. Three were from boys I barely know. And obviously, there’s one from from Friedrich, but-”

“None from Simon?” Kate drops her voice, glancing surreptitiously at her boyfriend before looking back at the other girl anxiously. Simon Bassett, son of the Duke, was Anthony’s best friend besides his siblings. A few weeks prior, he had expressed a lingering interest in his friend’s sister, and the response had been mutual. Though they’ve kept their relationship on the down-low, most of the girls of the clan knew about their secret rendezvous.

The smile wilts on Daphne’s face, as she idly picks at the stem of the white rose, “Not yet.” Her eyes are wistful.

“It’ll be okay, Daff,” Penelope smiles gently, “at least you have some offers to fall back on.”

Daphne’s sad smile turns to the redhead, yet her eyes flicker briefly down the table to where her older brothers are bent together, discussing something quietly. The smile continues to drop, especially when all of the women hear the heated words, “I am not, and never will, take Penelope Featherington to this stupid ball. Stop asking.”

At the sudden silence, the whole table simultaneously freezes, as Penelope’s mouth drops, “Oh.”

Colin, the owner of the voice and the most gorgeous emerald eyes, goes white as a sheet. He turns from a few seats away, mouth dropping slightly as he tries to say, “Penelope, I-”

“I never asked you to the ball,” she cuts him off shortly, as he’s saying “I know, but I-” The look she gives him cuts his words off completely.

“And if I had to go with anyone, I most certainly wouldn’t go with you either,” the words are meant to hurt, but they wobble slightly, and Colin’s eyes grow even sadder.

“Now if you’ll all excuse me,” the redhead picks up her untouched tray of food. For the first time, with this many eyes on her, she has the dignity and strength to continue, “I think I’ll be heading to class early.”

“Pen-” the girls try to chorus, and Eloise even gets up to go with her, but the redhead holds out a hand in silent warning before strolling out of the cafeteria, doing her best to hold it together.

-

_And would you look at that, dear readers. With only three days left to secure dates for the ball, Penelope Featherington has already been rejected. This Author wonders what it’s like to continuously feel as if you can never win. Only time will tell._

-

As she steps out of the cafeteria doors, it is only then that Penelope realizes that she still has ample time before the class before hers lets out. Changing her trajectory, she detours to her locker to switch out her books.

When she gets there, her eyes lighten at the sight before her. On her locker, there is a small stem of colorful flowers taped above the combination lock with a small piece of notebook paper attached below it. _She must have just missed him._

Detaching the tape from the small note, she unfolds it gently, her eyes straying back to the small bouquet of flowers before reading:

_Dear Wallflower,_

_Don’t you just despise Valentine’s Day? It has been established that it is purely a Hallmark holiday, expressed as a day to prove one’s love to another. But shouldn’t we be showing our love everyday?_

_Even though you haven’t responded yet, I know you’ll agree with me._

_But I saw these flowers in a shop on my way here today and couldn’t help but stop when I read their name. They are called erysimums, but they are more commonly known as Wallflowers, and I couldn’t help but think of you._

_I know I may not know your face yet, but I know that your beauty surpasses these already dying plants immensely._

_So this message is dedicated to showing your affection for someone all 365 days a year!_

_Sincerely, Your Traveler_

Penelope can’t help but smile as she carefully separates the tape from the small bunch of flowers. She already knew that she adored her secret admirer as well, in spite of not knowing his looks. But the gift is new. Their previous encounters had only been made up of notes. Pondering, she toys with the note in her fingers imagining her secret admirer. She imagines that he's tall, with dark -

“- Pen!” The redhead looks up sharply, stuffing the note in her journal and rolling the combination lock between her fingers. The minute the metal door creaks open, Eloise is at her side. “There you are! We only have a few minutes to get to Danbury’s class before she has our heads!”

The brunette takes off down the hall, and Pen spares one last look at the flowers before shoving them into her coat pocket and tearing down the hall after her. Her Traveler would have to wait, as Lady Danbury simply refused to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> loving someone is hard, but watching them fall for someone else because you're trying to be selfless is even harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> words cannot describe the love I have felt after posting this fic on a whim a few days ago. the love and support has been immaculate, and it makes this previously-retired writer feel endlessly grateful that she chose to come back out of hiding. thank you does not even equal the love I feel for all of you, for even giving me a chance. 
> 
> thank you so much for reading, commenting and just sharing your thoughts. it means the world. 
> 
> also fair warning: no one ever said Colin was the brightest Bridgerton.

Chapter 2:

**January 11, 2021**

**Before...**

Colin Bridgerton would never admit it to anyone, but he was a romantic at heart. His brothers made jokes when he’d stare off into the distance trying to find the right words to put in a poem, or when he’d been caught watching a rom-com or two with Daphne, _obviously_ _for the hot female lead, and not the angsty romantic plot._

He’d seen how lucky his parents had been when they were together, and how Anthony had become a lovesick fool when he’d met his match in Kate Sheffield, or when Daphne fell for Simon Basset, and he wanted that. So badly. 

But after many off-and-on dating experiences, he decided that it wasn’t in the cards for him. He had bigger dreams anyway; he wanted to travel the world, to be the first to see things in his family, rather than living in second- or third-hand memories. And he couldn’t do that without a significant other tying him down, could he?

So when he found a journal on his desk in Lady Danbury’s classroom at the start of term, he didn’t realize that his life would change at that moment. 

The journal was flipped open, the spine cracking easily from well-use. A ballpoint pen was tucked in between the pages as if the author had stepped out and would merely continue in a moment, and some pages were raised and wrinkled from water damage and coffee stains. This journal was well-loved, cherished even. 

If asked, he wouldn’t lie; he didn’t want to intrude on this person’s private thoughts, but he wasn’t overly careful to avoid reading the words either as his eyes skimmed over the words, written in loopy black ink, and his breath caught in his throat when he registered their meaning.

_ Sometimes I wonder when it will be me,  _ the entry began, and Colin’s bushy eyebrows furrowed, but nonetheless, he continues to read-

_ When will it be me? Who is admired, adored and wanted. I feel that I am always the girl at the corner of the room, simultaneously begging to gain attention while not trying to be too desperate. When will I have people swooning over me, have someone looking avidly through the crowd and going ‘There! There she is! The girl I’ve been looking for.”  _

_ But will it ever be me? Will I always be the one, cheering on my pretty friends when they gain attention, while remaining lonely on the bench? Will I be the old hag at weddings one day, the woman people pity because she couldn’t find her match? Is that who I’m destined to - _

The page cuts off, but he wants to read more. He can feel her pain, as if she is talking directly at him, asking  _ why won’t anyone look at me? _ and he knows. Not because he is not seen, but because he’s felt overshadowed before; having eight siblings is both a blessing and a curse. 

Anthony and Daphne are overachievers and strive to be the diamonds of the first waters in any way possible. Benedict dedicates his time from dawn to dusk smeared in charcoal, with pastels and paints under his fingernails. His work is well-loved in art class; his teacher has even brought up featuring him in an exhibit for up-and-coming artists. Eloise paints her pictures with words, colors them with meaning, yearning to be something more. To mean something to people. And Hyacinth and Gregory are wising up to be prodigies of their own, even though they are still too young to be boggled with drawing out their own futures. 

And he doesn’t even know what he can show for himself. When asked about his contributions, he’s left wondering if he will be stuck in the shadows, only banking on pipe dreams and aspirations.

So he knows how it feels, and he aches for her pain. It’s in that moment that he knows he needs to tell her how special she really is, that her words are beautiful and they need to be shared. 

Colin knew he should probably return the journal immediately. The writer was probably dying without the confines of the soft blue leather, full of thoughts and dreams to become realities. But still, he lingered on her words, and knows he must leave her with something more. 

He had flipped to the covers, eyes skimming for a name,  _ something,  _ when he found something that could be worth his while. A locker number. 1813 - the sophomore hallway. 

After reading her passage again, he took a slightly-crumpled piece of notebook paper from his bag and began to write. 

_ Dear Wallflower,  _ he begins, and suddenly, the words come to him like a dry well beckoning water, and he loses himself in them. 

_ You may not feel that you are beautiful in looks, but I can tell you have beauty through words. Your heart is so full, earnest, and your thoughts give me gravity in a world that is constantly moving. I may not be in your exact situation, but I am on the sidelines trying to find my purpose in a society that leaves me feeling incompetent and overshadowed. I keep stalling and pondering to see where the path of life takes me, and I am left feeling so unfulfilled. It makes me wonder if I must be the one who enforces the travel I yearn for.  _

_ Your words have brought me courage, and I need you to know that you have a power that deserves recognition. You deserve the love you seek, and one day someone will be there to give it to you. _

_ Sincerely, Locker 2120 - Junior Hall.  _

  
  
  


At the time, he didn’t know why he penned his locker number (he had no idea who this person even was!) but he had a gut feeling that said he needed to. He didn’t know if it was for his sake, or for the Wallflower’s, but it was vital that they knew that they had an impact on someone, and it was beautiful. 

He took the journal into the sophomore hallway in search of the locker in question and by some form of miracle, he discovered that the lock had not been fully latched.

“You must be having a very unlucky day,” he pondered aloud as he unlatched the door and slipped the book on top of a Biology textbook before properly locking it and heading back to Lady Danbury’s class with only a minute to spare. 

Being so lost in thought of his mystery muse, he failed to see the eyes of Lady Danbury scrutinizing him in a new light, with a sly smile curving her mouth.

-

After doing his good deed, Colin had gone to class like normal, but his thoughts were plagued by the words in the soft blue journal. For the first time in a long time, he felt seen by someone he didn’t even know. 

And he wanted more. 

At the end of the day, he had stumbled to his locker, twisting the lock in distracted fingers. When the door squeaked open, a large pink sticky note fell to his feet. Renewed, he snatched it up and unfolded it, his hands quivering. 

_ Dear Traveler,  _ read the loopy ink, now in a deep blue. 

_ I feel that I should be angry, as you’ve delved into my personal musings, but I cannot find myself in that position due to your lovely compliments. Even though I may not believe in myself, it is nice to know that someone does. So, well done; I’ve swooned for you.  _

_ Thank you for returning my journal safely; it is well-cherished and will never be misplaced again if I have any say. As for your travels, I say you should go for it. There is no use in waiting for things to change unless you are ready for them.  _

_ Remember, you do not have to start off with the biggest change. My best friend is the one who got me into writing, and she told me that even writing something is a start. It helps you grow and become better, and I think that is exactly what you need to do. Just take a little leap of faith and you will learn and grow in ways you never thought before.  _

_ I know you haven’t done it yet, but I’m proud of you already.  _

_ Sincerely, Wallflower (aka Locker 1813) _

Heart pounding, he folded the note and stuck it in his pocket. He had just zipped his bag as he felt an arm wrap around his neck in a chokehold.

“Come on, grandma,” Anthony, the owner of said arm, laughed heartily as he dragged his younger brother down the hall. “We’ve got places to be.”

“Like where?” Colin choked as his brother pressed against his windpipe. 

“Presents to pick, chocolates to buy,” meddled Benedict from his other side as Anthony loosened his grip. “Our dear brother has been shot down by his lover yet again. Apparently, it is rude to assume that a girl will automatically be your Valentine.”

“Shut it, Ben. It’s just a Hallmark holiday,” snorted Eloise, coming up alongside Anthony. “She is just trying to get you to prove your interest through gifts and gestures-”

“Oh, stop being so pessimistic,” Daphne scolded now, coming up next to Colin and patting him on the shoulder as he breathed heavily. She twirled the car keys of the Bridgerton minivan between her fingers. “But we really do need to stop by the grocer on the way home - I need to start buying gifts.”   
  


“Gifts?” Colin had asked, “I don’t remember you telling us you were seeing anyone.”

“Love is in the air, dear brother,” his sister pointed out, flipping her hair over one shoulder before shooting a piercing glare his way. “Anything is possible.”

-

After that, their correspondence began in full swing. 

Colin looked forward to coming early to school every morning to slip note into locker 1813, and walking to his locker throughout the day to find little sticky notes and letters in return. 

Their conversations varied from things that happened in their day to the deeper meaning of life, and he looked forward to every reply as much as he did to every time he dropped off a delivery.

He was shocked that he had never crossed paths with his mystery muse, but it also added fun to their correspondence. Without knowing who the other was, they both felt that they could be themselves, and it was refreshing to not be seen in the shadow of someone else. They were the wallflower and the traveler, and they could share their thoughts freely and unapologetically, knowing that the other would return their sentiments.

-

**_February 8, 2021_ **

Colin knew he had hurt Penelope’s feelings, even though she had handled the situation with more dignity than he could ever muster. 

So here he was, standing in the hallway outside of Lady Danbury’s classroom, waiting for the bell to ring. His Chemistry classroom was on the other side of the school, but he knew he’d rather be late than leave his relationship with Penelope in the uncertainty it currently resided in. 

She was his sister’s best friend, and more importantly, one of his dear friends. She was his light at the end of the tunnel when it came to the agonizing dinner parties his mother and all of the eager mothers of the ‘ton threw in order to establish connections between their bloodlines. It’s the 21st century, for God’s sake, and they were trying to sell their children off like it was the 1800s. 

But she always laughed at his jokes and came back with her own wit when he least expected it along with giving advice in more serious notes of conversation. It made him smile in spite of himself, just thinking of her. 

She reminded him of Wallflower sometimes. 

He was sure that Pen and his Wallflower would get along wonderfully. Pen was a writer too, but she always kept her work close to her chest. She wouldn’t even share what her column was in the Grosvenor Glory-

The bell rang overhead, and he snapped out of his stupor as he heard chairs squealing across the linoleum and the usual chatter that spilled into the hallways while classes changed. He kicked himself off the wall across from the journalism room, his emerald orbs scanning for the shock of red hair he’d come to adore-

  
_ Adore?  _ \- and there she was. They locked eyes, emerald on cobalt, and she looked like she was about to run, before she changed. 

Colin watched in a stunned stupor as she straightened up, shoulders back and a set to her mouth, before walking to him, though her eyes were set somewhere on his chest rather than-

“You have something right-” her finger juts close to the top of his V-neck, but doesn’t touch. Brow furrowed, he tucks his chin downward, “I don’t see-”

It’s then that her finger arcs upward and she flicks him in the nose. 

“Ow!” he lets out a high-pitched whine, the tip of his nose stinging from where her fingernail poked it. “What was that for?”

Her eyes narrow just slightly, and he sighs, already knowing the answer, “I’m sorry I was a prick-” 

“I know you are.” Her lips turn up at the corners, just slightly. “But there is nothing to be sorry for.”

“Pen, I know I hurt you-”

“Would Benedict be hurt if I said no to him?” She cuts him off, her smile gone. There are deep blue flames stoking in her eyes, and he knows he must tread carefully. 

“No…” he returns weakly. 

“Then why should I care if you said no to me? When I didn’t even ask?” Her eyebrows raise, and he is momentarily floored. His sweet, shy Penelope who always blushed when he cracked an innuendo or when he offered her a dance, was not present. In her place was a fiery, confident woman. 

“I still feel-” 

“Colin,” she sighs, “Just let it go.” 

But for some reason, he doesn’t want to. He’s looking at her like he’s never seen her before. Her eyes roll and she lets a quiet curse pass her lips before meeting his eyes, head on. “We are okay, Colin.” 

He feels miffed as he continues to stare. The third-eldest Bridgerton had been preparing a speech up to this point, meaning to share how sorry he was and how he wished they could return to normal, but the air has changed its course. It feels as if this normally carefree relationship has been ... broken. 

“Penelope, I-” he stops short, almost anticipating her to cut him off, but she just stands there, a look of..  _ pity  _ in her eyes. His heart almost broke. “I just needed you to know how sorry I am.” 

The bell rings overhead, and he remembers where they are. Her eyes are a bit wistful now, as she whispers, “Goodbye, Colin.” 

And she just walks away. It feels like an end, and he doesn’t know what has changed, but he’s already certain that he doesn’t like it. 

-

He’s late to Chem, and Colin is rather lucky that his professor only shoots him a warning look as he takes his seat, cheeks pink from exertion and embarrassment. 

  
“Where were you?” Daphne looks up at her brother from across the lab table. Between them is a line of glittery clear test tubes, little glass jars full of unknown liquid, and a few pipettes, and she is transferring chemicals from the jars into the test tubes meticulously. Normally, he loves sitting back and watching his book-smart sister handle their labs, but today he is simply grateful because his fingers are shaking too hard. 

  
“Daff-” he says, a bit loudly, and gets another dirty look from Mr. Berbrooke. His blonde sister looks up from where she is dropping a few drops of green liquid into a tube, her brows furrowed. 

“Have you ever really messed up?” He asks plainly, biting his lip in contempt. For the first time in a long time, he doesn’t know how to word his feelings. 

“In what way?” his sister asks, looking at him almost as if he’d grown a second head. “Colin, what’s wrong?” 

Maybe it’s the way she’s looking at him, like she wants to cry at his broken expression, but he shuts down. “Never mind,” he smiled ruefully, “Let’s get this done.” 

Colin knows she wants to say more, but Berbrooke shushes them again, and they get through the experiment in silence. Daphne works and he writes, and they’re done within a few minutes to spare. When she’s turned to speak to Simon, at the next table over, he flips open his notebook and just starts writing. 

_ Wallflower- _ his fingers tremble. 

_ Have you ever done something so stupid that you don’t realize that it will change your life forever? That you are so selfish you are willing to lose someone you deem a dear friend, just because you were feeling so much at once? I don’t know why I did what I did, but I think I just lost someone who I had taken for granted, and I don’t know how to fix it.  _ _   
  
_

_ I watched her change in front of my very eyes, from the shy girl she was to a confident woman, pushing me away, and I suddenly felt lost. Am I even worthy of forgiveness if I know it is my fault for what I lost?  _

_   
_ _ Your Traveler _

-

Pen stares at the words a little harder than she liked, the tears that had pooled from her eyes now dripping onto the notebook paper, staining his deep green words (the color of his eyes, she ponders almost bitterly) into almost illiterate puddles of ink. 

Of course, it would be Colin. The boy who wears his heart on his sleeve and has fallen for a girl that he doesn’t even know, and of course, it has to be her. 

She could hear the repulsion of his voice from lunch -  _ I am not, and never will, take Penelope Featherington to this stupid ball. - _ and her heart crumples slightly like the letter in her fist. 

He can never know it is her. She can’t afford to even think of the look in his eyes if he were to discover his Wallflower’s identity. 

So the next day, when she sees the new girl from her English class, Marina Thompson, looking at a certain Bridgerton boy from across the lunch room, she can’t help but grit her teeth a little before calling out to her. 

The others give her quizzical glances as she scoots her seat over and offers her a place. Colin is looking their way, so she makes her smile a bit wider and introduces the rather surprised girl to her friends. She tries not to pay attention to the way the brunette’s eyes linger on the third Bridgerton boy, and how his eyes return the favor. 

And if Penelope leaves shortly after she gives introductions, she doesn’t imagine anyone will notice. 

Except everyone does. Besides Marina and Colin, who only have eyes for each other, that is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you ever just sit back after writing and wonder "what just happened?" because that was me with this chapter. 
> 
> and yes, Colin frustrates me too, dear reader. 
> 
> find me on tumblr @totespoppunk

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading - constructive opinions are greatly appreciated.
> 
> I am still finishing the TV series and I've only read Book 4 so far, but I am continuing to expand in this universe, so if things are not 100% canon, my apologies. 
> 
> More chapters are coming leading up to Valentine's Day so like Lady Whistledown, keep your eyes peeled!


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